Nineteen
by Unwillingly Me
Summary: Stuck in a rut, feeling alone, feeling scared, sitting with Dakota every Saturday. This was normal for Gwen. And who was she to try to change what was normal?


**Okay people. I'm gonna be honest here. I have no clue how old Gwen is. I looked through Son of Neptune, and it was never mentioned. Therefore, for the sake of the story, Gwen is now nineteen. Nineteen's a decent age to go to college. Yeah, it is.**

**Right, so I don't own Percy Jackson or Heroes of Olympus or whatever, okay? Glad we got that sorted out.**

* * *

It should be easy to say it. It shouldn't be hard to look over at him and say it. It shouldn't be this hard to say anything. It's never this hard to talk. Never. Talking was easy. Saying this phrase was not.

Gwen only continued to smile though. She didn't talk. She didn't say anything as she sat with Dakota. She just smiled, despite knowing that his couldn't go on like this anymore. There had to be a sort of communication between the two of them. And yet, she couldn't even start a conversation with him.

It should be easy to talk to him. They had worked together for so long. Still, Gwen couldn't find the words she needed to actually talk to Dakota, which was ridiculous. She knew practically everything about him. But nothing. She couldn't bring herself to talk, so she smiled and pretended that she came here just to sip at her hot chocolate and watch him guzzle down Kool-aid like he always did.

This was normal now. They'd come here every Saturday and just sit, drinking their preferred beverages.

College. Gwen was in college now. She really didn't have the time for these weekly excursions. But she showed up anyways. After all, he always showed up, even with his massive intake on Kool-aid eating away at his brain. If that kind if stuff happened with Kool-aid. She suspected that it did, but still, she didn't say anything.

Maybe she should have said something. She never quite understood how he constantly drank that vulgar, sugary, cherry flavored swill he called a drink. It wasn't really her job to tell him what to do though. Not anymore. So Gwen stayed quiet as she stared straight at him, sipping her hot chocolate silently. This was normal. She would worry about him, and he would do nothing to keep her from worrying—mainly because he didn't know that she worried about him. How would he? She never said anything, so he wouldn't know.

Of course, the only reason he was really drinking the Kool-Aid was… well, Gwen didn't actually know how he started drinking it. Odd considering the fact that she had been at Camp Jupiter longer. Odd considering that she had been the Senior Centurion for Fifth Cohort. Had she really never taken the time to actually learn that about Dakota?

Still, she couldn't be expected to be the one to fix anything. Was there anything really wrong with him drinking Kool-Aid nonstop? Was there something wrong with her not stopping him from drinking Kool-Aid? People were used to it. It was normal. It was normal, wasn't it? For her, for him, for everyone.

Normal things weren't supposed to be stopped, were they? No, they weren't. So Gwen let him drink his Kool-Aid in peace. She didn't complain about the permanent stain on his face or how his breath seemed to be permanently scented cherry. She had grown used to talking to him and smelling cherry, even if she was a good seven feet away from as he spoke. Because that was how things were. And therefore, she shouldn't change it.

Things were the way they were for a reason. Gwen didn't know that reason. She didn't know why she of all people was allowed to come back to life after dying. After being killed. She really didn't do anything to deserve it, and she wasn't one to change how things were. Because it wasn't her place to try to change anything. Besides, if Dakota's drinking problem really was an issue, then surely Reyna or Frank would have done something. Or Jason when he was praetor. But none of them seemed too concerned about it.

Really, the only people other than Gwen to ever wonder if it was entirely healthy for Dakota to drink so much Kool-Aid happened to be Percy and Hazel. Percy hadn't lasted long. Hazel had grown used to it. It couldn't have been that bad then if Hazel was accustomed to it. There was no reason for Gwen to stop him, no matter how badly she wanted to grab his flask and hide it. No matter how badly she wanted to go and destroy his stock of Kool-Aid and sugar. It wasn't her place.

Never had been her place. So she wouldn't question it, despite how much she wanted him to stop. It didn't matter how badly she wanted it to end. It wouldn't because she would never say it—never voice the fears of what was going to happen to him if he kept it up. Well, she should be glad it was just Kool-Aid, shouldn't she? It wasn't like he was really drunk. He wasn't drinking wine or any other alcoholic beverage. Just cherry Kool-Aid.

And just like how she was too afraid to say anything about Dakota's obsessive Kool-Aid consumption, she was too scared say to him that she was in love with him. Such fears were rational though, weren't they? This was all normal. The fear, the Kool-Aid, the silence. This was all normal in the life of nineteen year old Gwen, daughter of Venus.

It wasn't like he would really pay attention to any of what she would say on those matters. After all, he was a guy with a flask of Kool-Aid because he wasn't allowed to drink wine, and she was just a lovesick girl at age nineteen.

* * *

**And there you go. There's my attempt at that. Kind of a normal thing.**


End file.
